


Bailando

by Navangely



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Dancing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navangely/pseuds/Navangely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio and Fernando share one last dance. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bailando

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the wonderful [halogens](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/halogens/profile/). She helped me a lot and she even added her own touch to the story, so kudos to her! Thank you, honey! I changed a few lines here and there later, though, so all remaining mistakes are mine. English isn't my first language.
> 
> Inspired by the song 'Bailando' from Enrique Iglesias.

"Dance with me, Fernando. Dance with me like it's our last night on Earth."

You are losing yourself in the labyrinth of his eyes as the words leave your mouth. It is now or never. You've been chasing him for years. All you want is a grand exit.

"You never give up, do you?" he asks. You would swear on your life that his smile lights up your world like a firework sets fire to the night.

"Never." You grab his hand and lead him to the dancefloor. Your fingers caress the small of his back while his find their way to your shoulder in a close embrace. It is all natural, like you were made for this, like you were born to be in each others' arms. One step to the right, one step forward. The grey of the smoldering live coals turns orange, then red. Your legs are entwined, his body pressed against yours. A glimmering little flame awakes from the ashes. You spin him away from you and he leans back on the support of your arm, and he stares up into your eyes. You now see the fire in his, you see the power of it, that it was meant to destroy. And you want that fire to burn both of you alive, so you pull him up and steal his breath with a touch of your lips to his in a way that promises to fly both of you to heaven. He doesn't give in, though. Neither do you. You can feel him trembling under your touch and you know he can feel your heart beating erratically in your chest like it was fighting for your life.

"Sergio." You love it when he whispers your name like this, so quiet and overwhelmed, like it's a prayer. As if it was salvation, the only way to freedom.

You answer by handing him over the key to the gates of Eden. You let the music take over your mind and soul, and in exchange it closes the doors to the outside world, hides you from your lives and sings a lullaby to your worries. All is left is you and him. You are the pianist and his body is yours to play.

So you dance. You dance like it's your last night on Earth. Because in some sense it is. Tomorrow, everyone will know about the two of you. The fragile paradise you've built for yourselves is going to vanish into the thin air. He will be ripped away from you by his father's wrath and every second without him is slowly going to kill you, until the darkness decides to have mercy on you and claim you for himself.

But tonight you don't think about any of that. You think about his soft hair tickling your face. You think about the feather-like kisses he places on your neck when you lead him into an imaginary realm where you’re safe. You think about the freckles on his body and how you cherished every single one of them on that day on the beach, when you made love to him while the waves of the sea laughed at the sunset for painting the sky with the colours of Spain.

You think about the moment you fell in love with him. You fell in love when he and his band of friends first started playing matches of football against you from sunrise to sunset so many years ago. You always thought of him as a spoiled brat, daddy's little boy, who was so full of himself that he never spoke a word to any of you because he thought he was better than all of you combined. You wanted to teach him a lesson, but instead he got past your defense and scored a beautiful goal even Iker was helpless against.

He didn't laugh out loud to celebrate his victory — no, he smiled. But oh, what a smile that was. You knew that you were going to remember it until the day you died. His whole face lit up as if it was the happiest moment in his life. It was the kind of pure joy that made you feel like you were invading his privacy just by witnessing it. It was the kind of smile that was usually reserved for one special person. To just see that during a football match with some kids told you everything you needed to know.

It told you a story about vulnerability, about dreams that can never be conquered, about chains holding him back. In that second, you felt a connection spark to life between you. You swore to yourself that you were going to do anything and everything to see him smile like that again. And you did. You decided to bring him out of his shell. It wasn’t easy but Sergio Ramos never backed down from a challenge.

You later learned that it wasn't arrogance keeping him from talking to you but an incredible shyness. His friends nicknamed him El Niño because he was younger than them but could still amaze them with the almost neverending supply of energy and strength to outrun them. He had a talent for scoring goals that made you stop in your tracks.

Away from football, he could talk about how much he loved Tolkien’s Lord of The Rings for hours on end, and to see the gleam of enthusiasm in his eyes made you want to love it too. You could never stop grinning and laughing during your conversations with him. You learned that his favourite food was Tortilla Española. You learned that his passion for football was the kind of passion that could consume his life day in and day out and he wouldn’t care, and you learned that he couldn’t fulfill his dream of walking out onto the pitch of a real stadium proudly wearing his team’s jersey because he was the heir to his father’s company. You learned that he loved his mother more than anything, that he sit on the balcony with his sister to listen to the melody of the sea when they both couldn’t sleep, and that his brother knew he could become the best striker in the world if he had the chance to prove himself.

You also learned that he used to hate his freckles because the other kids teased him for them. And that later he realized that he couldn’t change them and the only thing he could do was to accept them. (You wanted to tell him the story that your mother told you when you were younger, that every freckle was a kiss from an angel, so if you’re covered in freckles, then you must be loved.)

He was selfless in football and kind-hearted in real life. He did anything for the people he loved and that included taking the blame for seemingly falling short of his father’s expectations time and time again.

He loved running in the sea, and he loved it more when you were chasing after him. He thought you were a spectacular defender and he enjoyed your one-on-one fights for the ball, because even though he could score, you could defend. Don’t they say that opposites attract?

He got loud when it came to Atlético. He would get annoyed when you were singing about your undying support for Real. But despite everything, the heated discussions never went overboard because he accepted you for who you were. He didn’t see the heir to a rival company in you, and you were glad because people rarely see anything other than that. He saw you as a friend. His best friend.

You think about the moment he told you that he loved you for the first time. He was a nervous wreck, because he was terrified of what you would say. He had spent hours poring over his decision about whether to tell you, but in the end he realized there were enough secrets in his family. This one thing, that made him so ridiculously happy, was something that he knew he simply wasn’t strong enough to keep to himself, even if it meant losing your friendship. He was rambling and looking at anything and everything that wasn’t you but you knew you couldn’t say his words for him, so you let him finish in his own way, because he never got that chance from his father.

You waited until he said ’I love you’. He looked into your eyes at that moment with a sheer determination that could move mountains, that made you weak in the knees and your heart want to burst from your chest. You remember the sun shining from behind him, bathing him in a heavenly glow. You remember his hair being a mess.

And you remember his eyes. There was no fear in them, no pain, just love. You remember being speechless because while you had been hoping for years to hear him say those three words, you never believed you had a chance. You remember waiting so long that something like regret started to flicker in his eyes, which was the farthest from what you wanted to see.

So you laid your hand on the curve of his neck, with your fingers tickling the curly hair gathered at the nape, and you leaned in and kissed him softly, like he was the reason you were alive. And he kissed you back in a way that told you that you meant the world to him.

The music stops and your trip down memory lane comes to an end. Now, with your hand on the small of his back and his face buried in the space between your neck and your collarbone, you think about how much you love him. You need him as much as a drowning man needs oxygen because you simply can’t live without him. And you know he has the same trail of thoughts, because he lifts his head and looks at you with a broken, yet blissful expression. He smiles even as he wipes away a single tear gathering in the corner of your eye.

"Sergio,” he says. And before you know it, a laugh escapes your lips.

"Nando." You think about all the yesterdays, the times when you were happy. And you know that you won’t (can’t) give up this fight. You would go to war if that meant you could keep him with you, like this, forever. And you know he isn’t the same scared little boy from all those years ago. That he wouldn’t let darkness lure you away into his kingdom because you are the only thing he’s ever been selfish about and he wants you all for himself.

So now, you dance like it’s your last night on Earth. Because tomorrow, Hell is raising.

And you want to be ready for it.


End file.
